


Just for the Summer

by Theclocksays7



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe-Non-paranormal, Awkwardness, BillDip, Dipper doesn't wear a hat, F/M, Human!Bill, Journal will probably adhere to at least a smal part of plot, M/M, Ooc Mabel you have been warned, Terribly written and terribly maintained, Trash fics 101, bedazzled doors, cute blonde Bill, shopping trips, tags to be added as story progresses, unbeta-d, woods searching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:46:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theclocksays7/pseuds/Theclocksays7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dipper comes out to his father, the last thing he expects is to get shipped off to the middle of nowhere, a town called Gravity Falls with his twin Mabel, who isn't the nicest of siblings.</p><p>When he gets there, the last thing he expects to find is a cute blonde boy who catches his interest in so many ways.</p><p>The first thing he expects when befriending the aforementioned cute blonde boy is that it won't be easy. Dipper's not the best at interacting with people.</p><p>Bad luck; he was right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Would be an Adventure

Dipper bit his lip. It was the day. He’d finally do it. No more nagging about getting a girlfriend, or not doing a manly sport, or being perfect like Mabel. Well, maybe they’d still do that, but at least he’d get the girlfriend part out of the way.

To be quite honest, Dipper was terrified. He had no idea how his parents would react to his news. His dad, David Pines, was a lawyer, very strict and spent almost no time at home with his family. Dipper was grateful for this fact because when he did decide to make time for them, neither of them could stand each other. Dinner conversation was full of “Oh, Dipper, when are you going to get a girlfriend? I know you’re not exactly the best catch with those noodle arms and geeky attitude, but can’t you at least score some nice lady who’s willing to put up with you?” or

“Oh, Dipper, get your nose out of those books and go make me proud befriending someone rich and influential or get it together and sign up for a sport. Isn’t field hockey open this season?” or

“Oh, Dipper, you’re such a disgrace, why can’t you be more like Mabel? She may not get 100’s in everything, and an occasional B, but at least she’s trying to contribute to this family. She’s dating that handsome head of the football team, what was his name again? Brad? Brock? And befriending the head cheerleader! Brilliant! Blah Blah Blah…”. That kind of thing.

Dipper knew that his dad definitely wouldn't be happy with him. He was always ‘Let’s be an ideal family so I can brag to all my coworkers about how perfect I am.” Plus he already disapproved of him enough already. School was ending, so at least he wouldn’t have to see Marco too much, and that alone was enough to lift his spirits a little. Mabel would be going away to art camp for the first half of the summer, too, so he wouldn’t have to deal with her either. Even if his dad grounded him or something it wasn’t like he went out much anyway. His mom would probably be okay with him and his choices since she was less harsh and more caring, so he hoped she’d talk some sense into his dad and he'd get let off the hook quickly. The worst he could possibly do was revoke his visits to the library or force him to do something ‘manly’ to get rid of his homsexuality. That would be horrible, but he could deal if it meant no more talk of pretty ladies at the dinner table.

Dipper scratched mindlessly on the inside of his thigh, insides suddenly taking a nosedive, mind plagued with self-doubt. He had a million reasons not to do this and only a few stupid reasons to actually justify it. He could live with snide imperfection remarks and dealing with the girlfriend jokes, it was only another two or three years! He could-

He couldn’t. This was stupid. He’d been building up the resolve for weeks, and who knew the next time he’d manage to catch his dad alone at home? He’d take the plunge. Dipper took a deep breath to settle his jumpy nerves and shaking hands, mentally berating himself, then swung open the door to his father’s study. 

“What do you want? Don't you know you're not supposed to interrupt me while I’m working?” David asked grumpily, looking up from the pile of papers on his immaculate desk. He reached out to steady the stapler (which was askew by millimeters at most) and then redirected his attention to his nervous son.

“Can-” Dipper took a moment to clear his throat and take another calming breath, dissecting the fibers of the carpet with his intense gaze. “Can we talk?”

“About what? Finally got a girlfriend? Naw, that can't be it,” David replied, chuckling drily at his own joke. “I’m starting to think you might not swing that way, if you know what I mean.”

“Y-yeah, about that,” Dipper said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but his father.

David stared blankly at him, mouth gaping, before he let out a quick, harsh laugh. “I know you aren't over the moon about getting a girl, but honestly, Dipper, I can’t believe you would go that low. We don’t joke about things like that under this roof.” Because it’s not okay for me to do it, but it is for you because you’re perfect? Bull.

“B-but-” Dipper began, only to be rudely interrupted.

“Dipper, please don’t continue to go on with this joke. Do you know how bad that would look for this family?” David narrowed his eyes when Dipper looked uncomfortably away. “Come on, be serious. You’re not actually gay, right? Joke over. It’s not funny.”

“Hello? Earth to Dipper? I’m not laughing.”

When Dipper continued to give no response, David turned an awful shade of bruised firetruck in the face and stood up from his chair abruptly. 

“Go to your room.”

“What?” Dipper asked, astonished. Alarm bells went off in his head at his father’s quiet yet furious tone, but his hopes were raised a bit. Maybe he would get off easier than he thought? It wasn't looking good at the beginning, but who knows. David was an unpredictable man.

“Pack your bags. You’re leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“B-but school hasn’t ended yet! Where-” 

“I don’t care!” David shouted, suddenly mere steps away. “I need to talk with your mother, but i don’t want you under this roof! I can’t take responsibility for such filth. Go. Get out of my sight.”

“I can’t just up and leave! I have to finish the school year! What about my studies and-”

“Don’t talk back to me, boy!” David interrupted seething. “You live under my roof and you will do what I say!”

“That’s pre-” Dipper was once again interrupted, but this time by a resounding smack in the small room and harsh pain to his cheek.

“Go,” David growled, pointing out the door. “And on second thought, tell Mabel to pack her bags too. I don’t want to deal with either of you right now.” 

“Yes, sir,” Dipper replied, nursing his wounded cheek, eyes watering as he turned on his heel and turned out the door. That had really not gone the way he had planned. He had expected something, revoking privileges, assigning chores, nothing like this! He was to be sent away the first thing in the morning and the school year hadn’t even officially ended yet.

Dipper walked robotically up the stairs, making a stop at Mabel’s bedroom door, knocking twice.

“Ugh, what? I’m on the phone.” Mabel’s high-pitched voice could be heard through the door. Dipper could practically envision her eye-roll despite the painted wood separating them.

“What, dork? I was on the phone,” Mabel repeated, appearing against the open doorframe in a sparkly sweater and short purple skirt, emphasizing phone as if it was obvious that she was doing something and certainly did not like to be disturbed. She brushed her brown bangs away from her eyes and gave him an expectant stare.

“Pack bags,” Dipper said monotonously. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Where? And for how long?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at Dipper’s shrug. “You better not have done anything, brat. I was supposed to go the art camp this summer. I was supposed to go out with Bret this summer. I had plans!” Dipper only shrugged.

“Ugh! I hate you!” she screamed at him, rushing back into her room with a slam of the door. Dipper heard her scream of frustration despite the pillow muffler. As he began to walk away he heard her speaking on the phone, probably one of her cheerleader besties to vent about the situation.

“Oh, my god, Lucy, you are not going to believe what just happened. My idiot twin got us a one-way ticket to who-knows-where for who-knows-how-long. He is so stupid! I had plans! I was supposed to…”

Dipper closed his bedroom door behind him, effectively shutting out her whining. She thought he wanted to go anywhere this summer? He may not have had obnoxious plans like his twin but he still didn’t want to up and leave. School hadn’t even ended yet!

Dipper collapsed on his mattress with a groan before realizing that he didn’t know how long he’d be away for, and got up to make use of his time by packing instead.

He got through two suitcases full of clothes, notebooks, pens, his laptop, phone, and chargers before the gravity of the situation finally reached him like the slap in the face he’d oh-so-kindly received from his oh-so-accepting ass of a father, which still ached with the sheer force applied.

Tears pricked at his eyes. He should have gone with his gut. He should have waited, or, better yet, never said anything. He’d only had a few years and then he would have been free of his suffocating family. Free to pursue whatever and whomever he wanted. Of course he had to go and fuck it all up by saying something.

And now he may have ruined Mabel’s summer too! He’d never hear the end of it. Stupid, idiot, dork, blah blah blah. Maybe he’d have to deal with her the whole summer! What a nightmare. 

Not that he didn’t already get those. How was he supposed to sleep? He already had a hard enough time, and now he’d be shipped off to someplace probably in the middle of nowhere.

Suddenly, he heard his parent’s voices floating up from the first floor vent and he got closer to listen. 

“How did he even end up like that? I certainly discouraged it often enough. Told him to get a girlfriend, man up a bit. He could have had so much potential, just to throw it all away by being a- a homosexual.” Deep, professional voice. David. Dipper clenched his teeth at the words. Strict parents make sneaky kids, after all. Mabel and him were only sixteen, after all, and she already snuck out of her room at night to meet Bret or her cheerleader besties or go to parties, going as far as to make him cover for her. 

What made it worse was that Dipper was pretty sure his parents knew that Mabel was sneaking out constantly but never did anything about it because Mabel was the ‘perfect child’, she’d ‘never do such things as that’. He’d get home from the library one second after his (much earlier) curfew and he was grounded for a month!

His mother Lily’s voice floated up as well. It disgusted Dipper that someone as sweet as his mother could marry such a monster. “Honey, maybe you’re over-reacting. So what if he’s not into girls? You don’t have to send him away, much less to Gravity Falls. And you don’t have to rope in his sister, either.”

Gravity Falls, huh? Never heard of it. I’m probably right, Dipper thought. Shipping me off to buttfuck nowhere. And even torturing him so much as to include Mabel.

“At least I’m nice enough to send him away to family, Lily. I could be shipping him off to the middle of the Sahara desert with no money or warning. I think you’re over-reacting. At least he’s coming home at the end of the summer. Besides, that town’s always been strange. Maybe it’ll shock him straight.”

Family? What family? At least now Dipper knew that he’d be returning at the end of the Summer and not completely cast out of the house for good. That was… nice, right? It would help him to pack, at least.

“Oh, David, what am I going to do with you? Have you even paid the electricity bill yet? It’s deathly hot in here. We installed air conditioning for a reason, you know...”

Dipper sighed and stopped listening, the conversation having lost all relevance to him. He flopped back onto his bed and moved his bangs out of his eyes.

Gravity Falls. Dipper chuckled bitterly. Maybe he’d luck out and it wouldn’t turn out totally and utterly boring.

Yeah, right.

With one more sigh, Dipper got up to finish his packing for the trip.

***

When Dipper woke up the next morning, it was to Mabel’s harsh knocking on his bedroom door. “Get up, you dork. And you better have packed, we’re leaving in ten,” she shouted.

“Alright, alright, I’m up! Go away,” he shouted back. As usual, his sleep hadn;t been that great. It was only made worse by the fact that he was leaving today. At least it would be better than going to school and having to put up with Marco another day. Dipper pulled his sleeves down as far as they would go with a sigh and got up to take a quick shower.

When Dipper arrived at the bottom of the stairs, bags in hand, he attempted not to make eye contact with anyone. He really did. But try as he might, he couldn’t avoid his mother’s hug.

“I’m sorry, Dipper,” Lily whispered. “I couldn’t talk him out of it, but i want you to know that I don’t care who you like, that’s up to you. As long as you can put up with your insufferable father, you’re always welcome here, okay? It’s my house too. I made you your favorite chocolate chip pancakes for the road, but don’t eat them all at once, okay? I’ll write!”

Dipper pulled back to give her a small smile and nod as she rubbed her eyes. “Thanks, mom. I’ll miss you too.”

Dipper felt a bit bad watching her move on to say goodbye to Mabel. It made him sad to leave her behind with his monster of a father. Wouldn’t she get lonely? He was never around. And David could get a bit means sometimes too.

Lily caught her son’s worried glances and gave a chuckle, ruffling his already messy hair. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Worry about yourself!” While she was cheery and it called a smile to Dipper’s face, he could sense the underlying sadness and worry lacing her tone.

“Oh wait! I have this for you,” Lily said, digging around in her pocket and pulling out a necklace with a small blue pine tree pendant that glittered in the early sunlight.

“Wow, mom, it’s beautiful,” Dipper thanked her and slipped the necklace over his head, admiring it for a second before tucking it under the collar of his orange long-sleeved shirt.

“I know you love the pages, honey, but do remember to go outside a bit, take care of yourself,” his mother said, giving him one last kind smile before shooing him into the car that would take them to the bus stop. “Don’t forget to say hi to your Great Uncle Stan for me? And remember to write!”

Dipper chuckled, putting his bags in the backseat of the car. “I will, mom,” he said, waving to her and getting into the car. It was endearing how it seemed that she had so much to say to him and not much time to say it.

Dipper watched out the window, waving until they turned the corner and she disappeared from sight.

He sighed. This would be an adventure.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the chapter:  
> "Shock him straight"- did you know they used to deliver electroshock therapy to gay people to try and 'shock them straight'? I know right stupid people  
> 'buttfuck nowhere' came from a post on tumblr I don't know which one sorry.  
> If anyone finds a pine tree necklace like the one in the story hit me up with a pic it was spur of the moment I'm wondering if there are actually any
> 
> Like I said in the tags, I have an outline for this story.  
> And it has a stupid title. Subject to change.  
> -One, I like for the characters to direct the story. Like it wasn't in my outline for Dipper to get that necklace from his mom. Spur of the moment decision. This story is like that. Which means it may or may not stay non-paranormal, but the tags will be updated as I go so that hopefully you guys can keep up with my crazy writing ^.^  
> -Two, I have a little bit of Mabill planned out but that's mostly on Mabel's part. Beware the fact that Mabel is, like the tags say, kind of a bitch. Sorry. That's just how this particular story was panned out. (Maybe. Like I said, there isn't much of a road due to my writing style.)  
> -Three, I haven't always been the best at keeping up with things. I get addicted to new things really fast. Since Billdip is one of my constant things in my life, I hope that I will get to stick with this story since I have around 10 chapters planned out for this story, so it might just be short. I really don't know. ;A;  
> I'm sorry I'm rambling but I think you guys should know what you're getting into with this story. It'll probably be terrible and all over the place and I might abandon it, but if you think it's worth it i'd be glad to have you stay. I have school so updates might be a bit rocky but let's get through it together :D
> 
> I think that's it. Don't forget to comment and give me constructive criticism or ideas you have for the story, they always help. I'm new to ao3 so it might not be the best story ever uwu
> 
> clockmate  
> ps sorry my writing is short and terrible


	2. Getting Settled In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel get settled in to their home for the summer.

***

The bus ride to Gravity Falls was rather uneventful. Mabel was being whiny as always, but she spent her time on her phone and engrossed in social media, which made her easier to bear even if only by a little bit. The last time Dipper had been in transportation with her she had just broken up with one of her now-exes Ian, and wouldn’t stop bawling about it the whole plane ride to New York for their dad’s business meeting.

Though, if he had to say, Dipper thought the scenery was beautiful. He may not have been the best of the out-doorsy types, but with all this gorgeous forest, empty land, and newfound time on his hands, that was probably subject to change. He’d looked up the name Gravity Falls on the bus ride in his mind-numbing boredom. As he’d suspected, he didn’t find much; a few pictures of a small town surrounded by forest, an advertisement for a diner called Greasy’s, and an old, crudely fashioned, clearly abandoned website for a strange tourist hut called the ‘Mystery Shack’. He’d quickly skimmed over the website, but there wasn’t anything of much interest, just clearly fake attractions and cheaply made merch with ridiculously expensive prices. Needless to say, he’d given up on his search pretty early and opted to gaze out the window instead.

Dipper snapped out of his reverie when he realized that the bus had come to a stop and Mabel had been trying to catch his attention. 

“Come on, dork. Get your head out of the clouds long enough to get off the bus, now. Don’t trip,” she said sarcastically, rudely brushing past him with a huff and leaving behind a stale, haughty taste to the air. Dipper sighed, wrinkling his nose. The trip already had negative stars and he hadn’t even stepped off the bus yet.

Give it a chance, he berated himself, grabbing his luggage and heading off the bus. Get it together. It’s just for the summer.

Just for the summer.

When Dipper stepped off the bus to stand next to his twin, she was busy in engaged conversation with an old man in a black suit and an eyepatch, holding a stick with an eight-ball super-glued to the end.

“Stanford Pines, your Great Uncle Stanford Pines. You can call me Grunkle Stan. And you must be… uh, what was your name again?” the man said, sweeping his arm in a large arc before him. 

Mabel rolled her eyes and sighed. “This is my idiot of a brother, Dipper. He got us into this mess in the first place.”

“Hey!” Dipper replied defensively, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling her eyes right back at her, sticking out his tongue. Mabel scoffed and turned away from his childish gesture.

“So, where will we be staying, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, swinging her bags by her side. “Anywhere nice, I hope?”

“If you could call it that,” Stan muttered under his breath before raising his voice again. “Oh, just a little old place I like to call the Mystery Shack, where I scam tourists out of their money! Haha oh and you’ll be working there for bareley any wages. Price of admission, you could say.”

Dipper laughed. “The Mystery Shack? That’s where we’re going?”

Stan looked to him, surprised. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah, sure I’ve heard of it,” Dipper mumbled, rolling his eyes. Of all places, of all people, and they were going to be staying at that old place?

Stan shrugged, then turned on his heel towards the awaiting golf cart. “Well, whatever. Now come on, let’s go. Can’t lose precious money because of you two scallywags.”

“Um, Grunkle Stan? I don’t think we’re all going to fit in that dinky thing,” Mabel noted, eyeing the golf cart skeptically.

“Hmm,” their Grunkle said, inspecting each of them in turn. “Wow. Haven’t seen you guys in forever. Ever, actually. Your parents never really told me why you were coming, or like, anything about you guys. I was expecting twelve year olds or something.”

“We’re sixteen,” Mabel put in.

“Good thing we have a whole summer to get to know each other,” Dipper added sarcastically, ignoring Mabel’s dirty look at ‘the whole summer’. “And you know, Mabel, you could just walk.”

Mabel brightened, a mischievous look in her eye. “Great idea, Dip-Dop! Since I’m not used to carrying heavy loads for extended periods of time-” I wonder why that is, Dipper thought, already knowing where this was going- “You can walk!”

Despite predicting the outcome of his stupid remark, he still gaped at her. “How the hell am I supposed to know where to go?” he asked incredulously as he watched Mabel load her stuff onto the cart and settling into the passenger’s seat.

“Eh, there are signs that point to the Mystery Shack’s location. You won’t get lost. Probably,” he added under his breath. Dipper rolled his eyes and closed his mouth. Typical. Perfect Mabel getting everything once again.

“Ooh! That means I get first dibs on room choice!” Mabel squealed as they pulled out of the bus stop and began driving.

Dipper grumbled under his breath about the ‘unfairness of it all’ before wrangling his bags together and getting situated before he too, began to walk.

They’d gotten here rather early, Dipper thought, checking his watch. Hopefully he’d make it before night fell and he’d have to walk through the woods in the dark. As beautiful as it looked, it held an undeniable air of mystery about them that gave Dipper chills at the very thought of walking through them after dusk.

Despite the long walk, Grunkle Stan had been true to his word (A first for him, probably, Dipper thought) and there had been signs nailed to the trees to guide his way, probably meant for trapping tourists and flushing them of their money. Dipper couldn’t believe that he’d have to work in such a place.

When he finally reached the mystery shack, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It was a dilapidated old place, the S in the name falling over onto the failing shingles and leaving the place with the name ‘Mystery hack’. The windows were dusty, some even cracked, and when he looked through them he scoffed at the attractions which were, in his opinion, clearly fake. Why anyone in their right mind would pay such outrageous prices in such a place was beyond him. Dipper climbed the steps toward the door, careful not to fall through the old wooden porch. 

The door jingled obnoxiously as he entered, the ‘open’ sign flapping with the breeze. Inside there was a small room filled with useless merchandise. A red-headed teen sat at the register counter, feet up and lounging, magazine in her hands. She looked up at his presence but seemed otherwise unruffled, giving him a lazy smile. 

“Hey dude, you must be Stan’s visitor. Dipper, right?” At his nod she smiled and continued. “Name’s Wendy. I work the register part-time.”

“Cool,” Dipper replied. He may not have been so awkward around girls since his realization, but his people skills were still lacking and he still had a hard time finding conversation with others. He hoped a summer working at a tourist attraction would change that.

“Stan’s though there, probably watching tv on his lazy butt like always. You hungry? He’ll probably take you out to Greasy’s for dinner, he’s not exactly a master chef or anything,” Wendy informed him, pointing to a door left of her station. “Your sister’s probably up in her room still getting settled in. She’s been up there for hours. Said something about poster and a bedazzling gun?”

Dipper chuckled. “Sounds like Mabel,” he said, shaking his head. “Thanks, Wendy.”

“Oh, also tell the old man that I’m heading home, Soos is gonna close up shop tonight. My shift’s over,” Wendy replied, sitting up and setting her magazine under the counter for another day.

“Will do,” he shouted over his shoulder, opening the door. “Hey, Stan. Thanks for making me walk all the way here.”

Stan gave a noncommittal grunt. “Gotta toughen you noodle up somehow. Hey, at least you made it.”

Dipper rolled his eyes at him. “Mabel in her room?”

Stan nodded his head yes. “Speaking of rooms, you got the attic. At the top of the stairs,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the staircase. “Kitchen’s over there, but it’s not stocked yet so we’re going out for dinner tonight. Inform you sister.”

“Will do,” Dipper repeated, picking his bags back up again. He dropped them off at the top of the stairs in front of the door and then retreated back a few steps, knocking on Mabel’s door.

“Come in,” she hollered. Dipper opened the door to find her hanging up the last of her posters on the ceiling. The room was very Mabel; she’d brought lots of her stuff, almost her whole wardrobe was hung up in the closet, her bubblegum pink comforter and pillows set out on the small twin bed she’d pushed against the wall. She’d also brought a load of stuffed animals (she’d never grown out of her cute and cuddly phase, despite her popular personality), her makeup, and, of course, her needed crafting supplies, which were set up on a desk in the far corner. A small lamp on the table by her bed gave the whole room a soft, comforting glow.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Mabel remarked blankly, finishing with her posters and stepping down from her bed, only to grab her bedazzling gun and heading over to her bed frame.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” Dipper said, rolling his eyes and leaning against the open doorframe, which had already been attacked by the bedazzler. “Stan wanted me to tell you that we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

“‘Kay,” Mabel replied, moving on from her bedframe to the small lamp.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, the whole thing just screams ‘Mabel’,” Dipper stated drily, smirk on his face. “But do you really have to Mabel-ize everything? And why do I get the attic?”

“Yes,” Mabel huffed, continuing on her quest to jewel every surface in her new bedroom. “Nothing is safe from my influence! And the draft does terrible things to my complexion, not to mention the dust. This room isn’t much better, but it’s a start. Now get out, you’re distracting me.”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving,” Dipper laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender, backing out of the room and and closing the colorful door behind him with his foot. It was times like these when he wished that he had a more kind relationship with his sister. When they’d been little, they’d been practically inseparable, going everywhere together, doing everything together, one soul. That’d all changed in third grade, when Mabel had grown on the popularity ladder and he’d stubbornly stayed stuck at the bottom, his interests getting him knocked off the ladder for good in Middle school.

Dipper sighed as he opened the attic door, dragging his bags inside the small room. At first glance, it suited his needs just fine. It was a bit cramped, but there was an adjoining bathroom (something Mabel had clearly looked over, he laughed), another twin mattress, a desk, a few sporadically placed shelves, a small bookshelf, and a triangular-shaped window, which Dipper found rather odd but didn’t question it. Mabel had been right; it was rather dusty, and there was sort of a draft, but Dipper didn’t mind it much. The closet was a perfectly fine amount of space for him, it wasn’t like he had many clothes to begin with. The bedside table had a big enough surface to fit his laptop and phone, so that was good. His lamp stood beside his bed on the floor instead of the table, decreasing the chance he’d flail in the middle of the night and knock it over, possibly breaking it. Yep, it was a fine room.

Dipper had just finished shelving his books (alphabetically by author’s last name and categorized by subject, of course) and plugging in his laptop of charge when his foot fell into a hole. Dipper cursed, and upon looking down, his foot had fallen into a loose floorboard, revealing a small space underneath it. Grumbling, Dipper yanked his foot out and went to replace the floorboard when a flash of maroon caught his eye. Curiosity piqued, he pulled out a red, leather-bound journal. He flipped through it, but it was empty, not even a name in it. Dipper shrugged and was about to throw it aside and get back to his task of replacing the board, when he found a pen and a black light. Who keeps a random empty journal in a hole in the floor? Of all stupid...

Dipper got an idea and suddenly flipped open to a random page in the journal, shining the black light over it. Bluish-purple text appeared and Dipper realized that the whole journal was written in invisible ink! He ran a hand over the cover in fascination. But who had written it? The handwriting was neat and organized, unlike the price tags on most things in the shop, meaning it likely wasn’t Stan who had written it. Then who?

“Hey kid! Get your skinny butt back down here, we’re going out for dinner!” Stan’s voice floated up from the first floor, shocking Dipper into dropping the journal. He scrambled to put the items back into the floor as he heard steps growing increasingly closer. He only just managed to get to floorboard back into place when Mabel burst into the room excitedly, eyeing his sparse room, face turning skeptical at his position on the floor, but she shrugged.

“Geez, did you even bring anything? Was this how your room back home was like?” Mabel asked, with the face she used when imagining a design.

“I haven’t finished yet,” Dipper exclaimed, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “And no, you are not bedazzling my room.”

“Fine,” she pouted, crossing her arms childishly. “Not even in blue?”

“Mabel,” he warned exasperatedly. She threw up her hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay! I won’t bedazzle your room,” Mabel huffed, mischievous look passing her face. “No promises about anything else though…”

“What was that?” Dipper narrowed his eyes at his sister.

“Nothing!” Mabel laughed cheerily, bouncing out of his room. “Now hurry up! I’m hungry!”

Dipper sighed, chuckling, and stood up, leaving both the attic and the journal behind.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wasn't going to update, but all you lovely people who subscribed and commented and left kudos made me want to write, so here you go! I was going to introduce Bill in this chapter, but never got around to it. Next chapter hopefully, along with Soos. Dipper finds a journal though! And meets Wendy! What do you guys think? My outline is practically going to shit haha, this will probably be longer than I thought. And it may-or-may-not stay non-paranormal. What I can tell you about that, though, is that there is never going to be any demon!Bill here, even if I decide to add monsters and shit. He'll just be human. 94% likely. Sorry this is more of a filler, but it needed to be done, despite its shortness. I think most of my chapters will be around this length. And you get a hint of Mabel's personality! She may not be as much of a bitch as originally intended but she's not super nice either, kept her crafty side ;D
> 
> Anyway, don't get used to daily updates! I think I might update every week or two but knowing me that schedule will probably also go to shit lol. School's starting again soon boo
> 
> Anyway! Keep reading you wonderful people ;3 Your comments and kudos give me life ;A; sorry for rambling have a good day -#-


	3. The Name's Bill Cipher

“For the last time, Mabel, no, you don’t need to set me up with someone. I’m perfectly and utterly okay with my relationship status at the moment.”

The twins had gone out for dinner with Stan to Greasy’s Diner, and it had been going great; their pancakes were the best and the waitress, Lazy Susan, was really nice. Dipper and Mabel had also made an unspoken pact to at least try and get along for the night since it was their first there and from what Dipper could tell, Grunkle Stan wasn’t often on board with spending money when there were alternatives. And everything had been going great with that, too, until the dreaded topic of ‘relationships’ came up. Ugh. Dipper didn’t like to think about those, especially since his preferences in the department had gotten him sent there in the first place.

Mabel had only been there a day and already she was looking for a new boy toy, seemingly forgetting about her ‘perfect, quarterback on the unbeaten football team’ boyfriend Bret. Dipper rolled his eyes at his sister. Always looking for new people, just to throw them away like toys, looking for the ‘perfect soulmate’. Dipper was pretty sure that she’d abandoned all parameters and had started to look at other genders besides boys. Unlike him, though, she hadn’t gone blabbing her mouth about it to their father.

“But Dipper,” Mabel drawled, dramatically slumping onto the table and avoiding a mysterious sticky spot with distaste. “It’s the perfect way to start a promising relationship! New town, new start, and most importantly, no one knows about your weird dorky tastes. I’m sure we can find someone interested, or at least willing to put up with you for a little while.”

Dipper rolled his eyes at the interlaced insult. At least she’d avoided particularly mentioning girlfriends in her statement. “What do you know about promising relationships? You sound just like Dad. I don’t need to be in a relationship. Besides, we’ve only just settled in. I think you can direct your attention to other things besides your search for your ‘significant other’ for two seconds at least,” Dipper said, finger quotes around the phrase ‘significant other’.

“Yeah, like working in the shop,” Stan piped in, guzzling his Pitt Cola. He wiped his mouth and set in down, pointing at each of the twins in turn with narrowed eyes. “Don’t you think I’m feeding you and giving you a place to stay for free. That shit can get expensive. I expect you both to be up bright and early tomorrow to learn what you need to do. Dipper, Wendy’ll teach you how to mann the register for her when she’s being lazy, which is always. Mabel, you seem to like people enough, I’ll teach you how to run tours.”

“Aw, seriously? I’m getting confined to giving tours in your musty old shack? No fair,” Mabel whined, looking bored. 

“Now listen here, missy. You live under my roof, you’re going to work for me. No exceptions unless you wanna be put straight back on that bus with a one way ticket to Piedmont,” Stan replied crossly.

Mabel perked up. “Wait, seriously?”

Dipper rolled his eyes at her. “Mabel, you’ve only been here a day and you’ve already bedazzled the hell out of your room.”

“Whatever,” his sister huffed, crossing her arms and slumping once more against the questionably clean table.

“Whatever,” Dipper mouthed, miming a hand puppet yapping its trap. He stuck his tongue out at her in return to her childish antics.

“Well, that about sums up our night out,” Stan said after a particularly awkward, tense period of silence, raising an arm to hail the nearby waitress. “Check please!”

After a particularly tense car ride in which Dipper and Mabel made a habit of pointedly avoiding looking at the other. Stan had tried to break the tension between the brooding twins, but he wasn't used to children and had no idea what to say. Eventually he just gave up and continued on the drive back to the shack.

When they arrived, Dipper ran straight through the door and up to his room, footsteps pounding against the old wood of the staircase. He flopped face first down onto the sapphire covers, burying his face in the matching pillow and letting out a tired and exasperated groan. Dipper could hear Stan and Mabel entering the Shack, engaging in a small conversation before more footsteps could be heard and a door opening and closing. He assumed that Mabel had gone to bed, or at least shut herself up in her room for the night. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the faint clacking of the typewriter effect on her phone. Dipper realized with a scowl that the walls were paper thin, and the floors weren’t very soundproof, meaning he’d be able to hear almost anything from his sister’s room.

Suddenly more footsteps could be heard on the old staircase, old and creaky. Stan. Dipper sat up as he heard his great uncle enter his sister’s room and exchange a few more words with her. He collapsed back onto the bed. Well, not that thin, he thought. Dipper could tell that they were talking but the words were murky and he couldn’t make them out.

Stan could be heard exiting Mabel’s room and continuing on up the stairs. A weak knock sounded at his door before his great uncle peered his head hesitantly into the room. Dipper noted with a hint of a smile that his grunkle, while usually gruff and straightforward, seemed to lose his sense of confidence around them. It must be hard to take to almost strangers into your home, Dipper thought. And we’re young too.

“Yeah?” Dipper asked curiously.

Stan blanched, fumbling with his words for a moment before assembling them in some kind of an order and clearing his throat. “Oh, um, good night, I guess. Don’t- don't, stay up too late, um. Work tomorrow.”

Dipper chuckled softly. He’d only been there a day and he was already fond of the old man. “Will do,” he said, giving a little wave.

“Okay, well, um, I’ll just be- watching tv, my room’s between your’s and your sisters if you’re like, dying or something,” Stan replied awkwardly, body still concealed behind the small crack in the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dipper said, rolling his eyes playfully. “Night.”

“Night.” The man, looking as if he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to say it, glanced one more time at the brunet before pulling the creaky white door softly closed with a click.

Dipper sighed once more before reaching up to turn off the lamp, the small glow lighting up the room diminishing until it the only light in the room was coming through the window. Dipper took a moment to admire the silver moonlight playing chase at the shadows on his floor, beaming through the odd, triangular-shaped window and settled back, getting comfortable. He didn’t bother changing out of his day clothes and simply closed his eyes.

He knew that he would get little to no sleep that night, but he knew that he should at least try, mystery journal completely expelled from his mind.

***

Dipper had proved himself wrong. His sleep had been the best he’d had in weeks, months. Instead of the measly two to four hours he usually got (If he was lucky, he and all-nighters had made plenty of acquaintances), he’d gotten a solid six, void of nightmares. While it was certainly a bit off, he didn’t question it; he was grateful, and it was probably the lag from the twelve hour bus ride in which he’d gotten no sleep at all.

“Hey kid, I made pancakes.” Stan’s gruff voice, impossibly rougher from sleep, floated up to him through the floor. Dipper stretched, spine popping uncomfortably with a yawn.

“Coming,” he called down, swiping at his bangs and attempting to wrangle his bed head into submission to no avail. He pulled back the blanket entangled in his legs comfortably before stepping out of bed, his foot falling mercilessly into the loose floorboard and causing him to crash uncontrollably to the ground, bashing his elbow into the wood on the way down. “I’m okay,” he called breathlessly, knowing that he’d crashed quite heavily to the floor.

‘Hurry it up, your Stancakes’ll get cold’ was the resounding reply.

Dipper cursed at the (stupid, useless) floor and was about the replace the loose board before he remembered the mystery journal. Dipper looked this way and that, as if someone was watching him, before slipping the journal and the UV light conveniently into his blue vest and hopping down the stairs, undoubtedly looking rumpled from sleep and uncleanliness.

Mabel wrinkled her nose at her brother’s wrinkled appearance. “Ew, bro, have you even encountered a shower before? Or laundry?”

“Shut up, Mabel,” Dipper laughed huffily, pulling out a chair at the table and rolling his eyes. Even his sister’s attitude to his unhygienic tendencies couldn’t ruin his curiosity as to what he would find later in the mystery journal.

“What’s got your attitude soaring this morning,” she muttered in reply, looking at the blackened, vaguely circular, charred ‘Stancakes’ that were his grunkle’s attempt at breakfast.

“What even are these?” Dipper asked incredulously, banging one against the table and blanching when it created a crack in the table, moving his glass of orange juice over to cover it.

“Pancakes,” Stan chirped happily, flipping another devil ‘pancake’ in the skillet by the stove.

“Yeah, no,” Mabel laughed, hip-bumping Stan and inspecting his batter. “First of all, move out of the way, old man. This is all wrong.”

It was Dipper’s turn to laugh as she proceeded to dump the whole batch into the trash, throwing the blackened pieces out the kitchen window and into the backyard, where a goat came and snatched one up before running off again. “Let’s do this right.”

Stan huffed indignantly as the brunette began looking through the cupboards for ingredients. “Stan, there’s nothing here! You seriously need to make a trip to the grocery store.”

“Yeah, well,” the old man said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t really get out much.”

Mabel rolled her eyes as she assembled all the things she needed, bring the scorched pan over to the sink to wash. “Dipper can go out into town to get some things.”

“What? Why do I have to do it?” 

“Because I’m making breakfast,” Mabel scoffed, as if it were obvious. She paused in her dish washing and pulled out a shooting star shaped notepad out of one of her seemingly infinite sweater pockets and a sparkly pen from another. She jotted down some simple things for around the house in a list, putting neat check boxes next to every item. She handed him the list along with the sparkly feathered pen. “Don’t forget anything.”

Dipper rolled his eyes for the thousandth time since he had arrived in Gravity Falls. “Yeah, fine. I might as well stop for coffee while in town. You want anything?” 

“Hot chocolate,” Mabel chirped, resuming the pan washing.

“Mabel, it’s summer.”

“So?”

“Okay!” Dipper said, hands up in mock surrender. “Hot chocolate it is. Stan?”

“Nah, but let me give you some money since you haven’t earned anything yet,” Sta responded, pulling out a wallet and handing him fifty bucks. “Feel free to buy anything with whatever’s left over. I have no idea what you kids are into these days.”

“Well, I’m off then,” Dipper sighed, heading for the door.

“At least change first, idiot,” Mabel told him, horrified. “It is not socially acceptable to have habits as bad as yours. What if you meet someone you like? First impressions are important.”

“Didn’t need that lecture so early in the morning,” Dipper relented, changing his stride and heading for the stairs instead. “Fine. I’m going, I’m going.”

After Dipper had successfully changed (trading his blue vest for a backpack in which he put both the journal and the UV light, feeling better about having them near him so he wouldn’t lose them, his phone, the list and pen, and the money, which he had placed in his wallet so he wouldn’t lose it), he walked back downstairs and out the door. Wendy was sitting boredly at the counter, magazine in her hands again.

“Hey Wendy, I’m going into the town for groceries. Want anything?” he greeted, stopping by the counter with a wave.

“‘Sup, little man. Sure, bring me some soda from the store, will you? My under desk supply ran dry at the end of yesterday’s shift,” replied the teen, putting down her magazine to fist bump with his before redirecting her attention again.

“Okay, see you later.” Dipper grabbed the keys from the counter and headed out the door, waving over his shoulder.

“See ya.”

Dipper started the rickety car with little issue and stepped on the gas, heading towards the city, smiling at some tourists outside of the car as he passed. The drive was not a long one, but he found himself fiddling with the radio station as he drove along the road into the town, stopping on some girly pop station that found himself ashamedly listening to and enjoying.

The grocery store was in the middle of the sleepy town, not very big but thankfully carrying everything on the list, and picking up a pack of soda for Wendy. He paid the cashier the money, stopping by Greasy’s Diner for some coffee and, luckily, hot chocolate. He did not want to face Mabel’s wrath at his failure.

Before he got out of the car, he turned the station back to the generic one that it had been on before he fiddled with it, hoping that Mabel or Stan or even worse, Wendy, would find out what kind of music he was into lest he face eternal teasing about icelandic pop groups.

When he got out of the car, he encountered a large man standing on a rickety step stool and tinkering with the porch light, bobbing his head to a beat that only he knew.

“Hi,” Dipper called out. “What are you doing?”

The man looked around in confusion for a moment before landing eyes on him, face lighting up as he stepped down from the stool. “Sup, dude. My name’s Soos. Mystery Shack handyman at your service.” The man- Soos- flipped his head off his head and swept into a low bow.

“Dipper,” he replied. “Mind helping me with these groceries?”

“Sure, dude,” Soos said, shuffling over and grabbing a few of the bags. “So, you live at the Mystery Shack now?”

“For now, at least,” Dipper answered, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Hopefully only for the summer.”

“Eh,” Soos shrugged. “It’s not all that bad here, to tell you the truth.”

“I guess,” Dipper said non-committally. He kicked open the door with his foot, hands full of shopping bags and his coffee. “Hey Wendy, I got your soda. Have you seen Mabel? I got her the hot-”

Dipper’s cut off mid-sentence. Before him was the most beautiful specimen he’d ever seen. Blonde hair fell perfectly messily into blue eyes that shimmered with golden-green flecks, the prettiest eyes he’d ever encountered. His face was angular yet soft, dressed in black skinny jeans and a yellow and grey checkered shirt. Freckles splashed across his nose like Mabel’s stray glitter.

Dipper blushed when he realized he’d been staring.

Then his heart dropped.

This mystery guy, the first one he’d had his eye on in a while, was flirting with his sister Mabel.

Suddenly the teen turned and caught wind of Dipper standing there, loaded up with groceries as Soos struggled in the with the last of the bags.

“Ah,” he said, voice velvety smooth and oddly high, melodious, eyes twinkling. “And who is this?”

Dipper felt like he was going to explode with the weight of the teen’s sapphire-golden gaze.

“This,” Mabel cut in, gesturing to the skinny brunet, “is my nerd of a brother Dipper.”

“Hi,” Dipper said weakly, waving awkwardly.

“Hello, Pine Tree. The name’s Bill Cipher.” That voice.

“U-um, what? Pine tree?” Dipper asked awkwardly, only to realize that his mother’s necklace had escaped the confines of his shirt collar and was swinging around his neck. He reddened, tucking the pendant back under his shirt. He’d forgotten he’d even been wearing it. 

Bill laughed, white, white teeth flashing in a catlike grin.  
Dipper knew right then and there that this guy was going to be trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late !!! -#- my brother hit me in the forehead with a metal baseball bat so I head a headache yesterday and couldn't concentrate on writing ;A; I'm fine now tho. This chapter was unedited because I wanted to get it up so feel free to be my betas and point out any grammar mistakes ^.^ I'll go back and edit this later.
> 
> And you get to meet Bill and Soos in this chapter too! Yay. The first part was kind of a filler but. What can you do. anyway, I tried to make this a little bit longer for you guys even if not by much ~ hope you like this chapter! I'll try to update this weekend but no promises xD
> 
> I feel like Stan would be really gruff but soft around the kids because he doesn't know how to deal with them oops but he likes dipper better


	4. No Can Do about that Ladder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper has a little escapade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD GUYS <3 <3 YOU ARE THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING BEST LIKE I SWEAR I LOVE ALL OF YOU ESPECIALLY YOU WHO OWNS MY SOUL (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE). I managed to find time to finish up the suckiness of chapter four while I had free time in school and I know I siad I would make it longer and good but I was in such a rush to upload that this is unedited and hopully it doesn't feel rushed end of it is a bit filler like. I hope I can get this back on track with another chapter or two. Please don't give up on this poor story just yet, loyal readers!

***  
“So, u-um. Mabel, who is this guy?” Dipper asked hesitantly, peeking uncertainly over at his sister, who was trying to regain the guy’s- Bill’s- attention.

“Bill Cipher,” Bill repeated, as if it was obvious.

“Yeah, got that part,” Dipper replied, glancing at his feet for moment before lifting his head once more. “But, um, why are you here exactly?”

“Dipper!” Mabel hissed indignantly, eyes darting to the side in hopes that her idiot brother hadn’t offended the number one cute guy of the summer.

Bill laughed again, a harmonious sound despite its seemingly dangerous undertone. “No, no,” Bill chuckled, waving away Mabel’s concerns. Dipper predicted that it would be hard to actually intimidate a guy like this- not that Dipper was especially intimidating in the first place. “Why, I’m just a paying customer who stopped by at the rumor of some new cute employee at this old place. Not very many options in this little town, you know, unless you count Pacifica- which I don’t, the snooty princess.”

Dipper tried hard to fight his blush, proud that only a little pink dusting managed to escape the battleground. Bill hadn’t specified him or Mabel- and with his flirtatious flair, one couldn’t be sure. His only flaw was his vaguely assholeish and overly confident attitude, the very opposite of Dipper’s awkward nerdy side. People like them didn't exactly click.

Despite that though, it was too bad Mabel’d already cornered him.

“Well, I’m just gonna go put the groceries away,” Dipper said awkwardly, picking up the abandoned groceries and heading through the door to the living part of the shack. Soos followed suit after a vague ‘come hither’ gesture over his shoulder.

Dipper’s blush stubbornly refused to subside. It didn’t help one bit that Bill’s laughter bounced round and round in his head defiantly for the rest of the day, much to his chagrin.

Dipper settled on getting a quick snack. He’d left before he’d had a chance at breakfast and now it was past noon. At least he’d stopped for coffee, he thought as he sipped at the previously precariously hot cup in his hand that had cooled down to the ideal temperature during the time he’d been standing intrusively at the door. He put the pack of Pitt Cola in the fridge for later and set Mabel’s hot chocolate on the counter in hopes that it’d be cold when she went to drink it, if she even remembered asking for it. Small victories, after all.

“Dude, that guy’s nothin’.” Dipper jumped at the sound of the handyman, he’d zoned out and forgotten someone else was around. “He just likes to come ‘round and pester us once in awhile.”

“You- you know him?” Dipper asked hesitantly. So Bill was a common occurrence around the shack? He’d have to get used to that. Not that he really minded all that much...

Soos nodded. “That guy? Oh yeah. Dude’s been coming around for as long as I’ve been year, at least ten years, since he was seven or so maybe? I dunno, but he’s cool sometimes.”

“Oh.” Dipper noted that he liked to say ‘dude’ a lot. He could feel himself warming up already. Soos’s kind attitude was like a friendly moon with or something. You couldn’t help but like him, and he helped you a lot in return. He wanted to ask more about Bill as he got out a granola bar and proceeded to put the groceries away in the bare cupboards but something held him back and he decided to move on to another topic of conversation, remembering the journal hid loosey in his old blue backpack. He figured that Soos had been here a while and could help him identify who had wrote the journal.

“Hey Soos, did anyone live here before Grunkle Stan?”

Soos took off his hat to scratch his head in thought. “Before Mr. Pines? Nah, I’m not sure. I know that he didn’t build the Shack, but I don’t think anyone lived here before him.”

“Oh,” Dipper said again, filing away that note for later. If Stan hadn’t built the house then there was a good chance that someone else had lived there before, maybe the author of the journal. Maybe a family member? Or a close friend? Someone completely random? And why would anyone buy a ramshackle old house in the middle of nowhere like Gravity Falls? Maybe-

Dipper was interrupted from his musings by a loud shout from his twin. “Hey Dipper, get Wendy a soda while you’re in there!” He sighed. He really needed to get around to checking out the mysterious journal that was still conveniently hidden in his backpack… in the other room.

Dipper scrambled to grab a cola from the fridge before bolting into the living room to get his bag before anyone found it, only to find Bill sifting through the contents like he owned it. He rushed over to couch and snatched it from his hands, holding it to his chest.

“H-hey!” He stammered, fighting to reign in both his annoyance and his ragingly red face. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Mabel rolled her eyes, sauntering over. “God, Dipper, it’s not like there’s anything worth it in there and you know it.”

“If that’s the case then you don’t really need to be poking around in here then, do you?” Dipper responded with a scowl. He gulped when his attention returned to the blonde and found him smirking, a malicious glint in his golden eyes. Maybe he should start keeping his journal somewhere safer. It was never good when Mabel’s interest was peaked. She had mad persuasion skills, no joke.

“A-Anyway, here’s your soda,” Dipper stammered, tossing the can to the bored redhead at the counter who was watching the scene with a slightly amused look. “I’ll be back… not,” he mumbled under his breath as he left the shop and bounded up the stairs to his attic bedroom.

Dipper pulled the journal and the UV light out from his bag and placed them on his bed before pulling out another granola bar and flopping onto his galaxy bedspread with a sigh.

“Stupid, stupid,” he grumbled, smacking himself in the forehead with a closed fist as he let out another heavy sigh and his hand fell limp. Well, that had been embarrassing. Give them a reason to sift through your stuff some more, why don’t you?

As Dipper mused through his thoughts and mulled over his previous actions his eyes trailed over the worn, wooden ceiling. It was filled with cracks and weird spots that differed in color and a strange, square shaped outline that looked vaguely like a door…

Dipper started. He hadn’t noticed that before. When he looked, he saw a small, dinghy rope hanging from the ‘door’. Was it an attic? He’d thought the room was too small to fit an attic, but maybe… the house had been nothing but wonders so far, what was another one? Maybe he’d even find a good place to hide the mysterious journal. Worn book in hand, Dipper pulled over a box he’d left unpacked and stepped up, pulling on the little rope. A ladder, fell down, but it was not an attic that exceeded beyond the entrance.

The sky greeted Dipper and the hot summer air hit him full in the face as he ducked away. The roof? He climbed up on the ladder until he was successfully seated upon the reddish-tinted wood. The forest surrounded the shack was green and luxurious, and birds and small animals could be heard even from there rummaging around in the trees and underbrush.

“Woah,” Dipper breathed, unconsciously edging towards the edge to get a better view of the wilderness surrounding and lifting his foot off of the last rung of the ladder, causing it to come up into place with the roof. Dipper froze before scrambling around and shaking the ladder, but the old latch had gotten into place and now he’d gotten locked out on the roof.

“Shit,” he thought, rattling the door back into his bedroom in hopes that his wild desperation would be enough to get it to slip back open. Dipper groaned, sitting back on his angles as he tugged at his hair in distress. He was so locked into finding a way down from the precarious edge when he vaguely noticed pages flipping in his subconscious. It took him a whole ten seconds to realize that it was the discarded journal and another fifteen to realize that he should probably get it away from the edge before it fell off. His head turned just as the wind carried the thing over the side of the roof and down onto the ground below.

He had no choice, Dipper told himself. He’d never get off this roof otherwise. “Mabel!” He called, hoping she would hear him and come out to inspect the shout. “Mabel!”

There was no answer from his infuriating female twin. Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Dammit. MABEL!”

“What?” Mabel’s holler came from the open front door on the porch as she looked out, shrugged, and began to go back inside.

“Up here you idiot!”

“Dipper?” Mabel asked incredulously, running for some shoes and hopping out into the yard, phone in hand. Her disbelief swiftly turned into hearty laughter at her brother’s strange predicament.

“Haha- W-who’s the idiot n-now?” She laughed, practically rolling on the ground in glee.

“Ha ha,” Dipper responded flatly, rolling his eyes and pulling back from the ledge as his sister calmed down enough to pull out her smartphone’s camera and began snapping pictures. He only hoped she wouldn’t notice the old red journal lying face down in the grace a few meters from her sparkly feet. “Go ask Grunkle Stan if we have a ladder or something,” He called down grumpily. He did not want to be stuck on the roof any longer.

When Mabel came back empty-handed, Dipper let out a prolonged, suffering sigh, tugging at his hair once more. What was worse was that Bill had been caught up in the commotion, as well as Wendy, and had created more witnesses to his utter fail and humiliation.

“Sorry, nerd,” Mabel called up from the ground, clearly way too giddy about the situation. “No can do about that ladder.”

“I can see that,” Dipper replied.

Wendy looked thoughtful. “Well, actually, Soos might have one in the-”

“AHAHA,” Mabel interrupted, jumping in front of the red head and shaking her arms wildly. Dipper sighed.

“How’d you even get up there in the first place?” Bill asked, eyebrow raised in amusement. Dipper got an idea.

“There’s a ladder entrance from the ceiling in my room- it got locked when I was up here. Come up to my room and pull on the little rope to get it down.”

Mabel deflated. She’d hoped to get him stuck up there for a little bit longer before she pulled out the ladder, but of course her dweeb of a brother always had a solution. She pouted. “Fine,” she hollered. “But I’m going to take my sweet time!”

No doubt about that, Dipper thought, as Wendy headed inside to mann the register and Bill flopped down in the grass as if Dipper wasn’t stuck on the roof.

“So,” he called up. “Nice view, huh? Oh! Now what’s this?” Bill asked suggestively, pulling out the beaten journal from under his butt where he had mistakenly sitten on after its tumble from the rooftop.  
Dipper, who had suddenly regained interest in the conversation, extended an arm over the edge with wide eyes.

“Don’t touch that!” He cried. He didn’t know what was in the journal, but he prayed to every powerful being he knew to not let it be something important. His stress turned to relief and he let out a puff of breath as Bill’s suspicious amusement turned into a comical pout. Of course. Invisible ink, after all.

“Aw, come on Pine Tree, the thing’s empty,” Bill called up dejectedly, waving the journal and glaring at it as if it had personally pushed his mother over in the road and called her fat. What was the guy even looking for anyway? An oddly personal and detailed diary? Weird fantasy scenes including those in his everyday life? Pictures of roses and daffodils from gardens around the world?

“Whatever,” Bill huffed, tossing the journal to the side and crossing his arms. Dipper sighed at the misuse the thing was experiencing, but was secretly, (a little bit) glad that he hadn;t been able to find anything. It was a mystery Dipper wanted to solve himself.

Suddenly Dipper heard rummaging around below him and facepalmed as he realized that Mabel was probably snooping through his room. “Mabel,” he called indignantly. “Let me the hell down already.”

“Fine, fine! I’m coming,” came the retort as the ladder was pulled down and Dipper was allowed back into his attic bedroom. “You owe me,” Mabel told him, arms crossed over her chest in a manner similar to Bill’s. Dipper almost laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Dipper said with a chuckle, turning Mabel around and pushing her from the vicinity. “Whatever. Just get out of my room and let me enjoy my sweet relief from the summer air.  
****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reall hope you guys are okay with this chapter :( hopefully I can get this back on track, but until then, please endure this trash <3


	5. Bedazzled Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stuff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol so I'm sorry for the unannounced three month hiatus, my computer is officially fixed and summer's coming up so I am actually going to get this back on track sorry for this crap chapter

“Dipper, the current state of your closet is unacceptable and we are going shopping this weekend so as to avoid being seen with a fashion atrocity such as you,” Mabel said with a dramatic flourish of her arms, collapsing against the counter. Another day, more drama, Dipper thought, rolling his eyes.

“No, absolutely not,” Dipper replied, continuing to shelve the cheaply produced yet heavily priced snow globes in a neat-ish arrangement, stacking methodically and fitting as many as he could- nine snow globes- on each shelf before he moved on to the next. “I do not have time to be messing with you this weekend. I am very busy.”

Mabel snorted. “No, you aren’t. You just want to get out of shopping with your alpha twin.”

“Like you’re the alpha twin,” Dipper mumbled. “And actually, I was going to do stuff around the house this weekend. Do you know how old and ramshackle this place is? I really wouldn’t be surprised if the walls just spontaneously fell down around us in the middle of the summer.”

Mabel pouted, devious smile coming over her face. “I guess I’ll just take Bill with me then, and we can pick out clothes for you!”

Dipper froze. Something inside of him felt tight at the prospect of Bill and Mabel visiting the mall together. Unsupervised, Mabel was a force to be reckoned with, in shopping and flirting departments both. He scrambled to come up with a good excuse to tag along even though he’d just outright refused. Even though he did plan on fixing a few things up, his schedule was actually rather free. “What? No! I still have nightmares about the last time you picked out clothes for me.”

Mabel smirked, hands on her hips. “I thought you were busy?”

Dipper buried his head in his hands with a long, drawn-out sigh. “I think both my schedule and I understand the importance of preventing you from selecting the additions to my wardrobe. I don’t think either of us can handle such color and… flamboyance.”

Mabel was already out the door, probably out to terrorize another guy until he realized her brilliance and proposed until she got bored of him. She turned over her shoulder, “Oh, but I’m still bringing Bill.”

Well then. With a shake of his head, the teen realized that he’d run out of snow globes and that his hand had been grasping at empty air for the past minute or so. He set the box down, going over the list of responsibilities in his head. 

Since I’ve obviously been duped into going shopping with my overly obnoxious sister this weekend, I might as well get a move on on those repairs so I might actually finish them by the end of the summer…

As Dipper went over the many ways to fix up the old shack in his mind, he grabbed a notebook and pen out from under the counter and began chewing on the end of the pen.

1.Purchase ladder

 

2.Repair old stairs

 

3.Replace all light bulbs

 

4.Replace (install?) smoke detectors

 

5.Repaint and freshen porch

 

6.Install locks on bedroom door

 

7.Buy a toaster

 

Dipper walked through the shack, assessing the damage of each part of the house and listing ideas to remedy the issues. He was leaning down to count the number of cracked plates in the cupboard (all of them), when he heard footsteps in the kitchen when he raised his head to see who had entered and effectively banged his head on the top of the cupboard. Dipper hissed, withdrawing his damaged noggin back close to his body like a timid turtle as he slowly backed out of the cupboard.

“Yo,” he said weakly, waving a hand over his shoulder as he cradled the injured forehead in his hands.

“You alright, dude?” asked Soos worriedly.

“Sure, sure,” Dipper mumbled dismissively, finally lifting his head to the handyman for a proper acknowledgement. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. I finally managed to chase away that goat that’s always eating our garbage out back. What about you?”

“I’m making a list of repairs that should be addressed around the shack. Maybe you could help me out with some of these before I’ll be forced to be Mabel’s pack mule for an excessive amount of time at the mall this weekend.”

“Sure, dude, anytime. Soos, Mystery Shack Repairman, at your service,” announced Soos, saluting the teen and breaking into deep bow and removing the cap from his head. “What are you thinking about starting first?”

“Well, I’m definitely going to need a ladder, and-”

Dipper was interrupted by Soos, who was holding up a hand with a confused look on his face. “We have a ladder. I keep it in a closet in the shop for fixing light bulbs and windows and stuff.”

Dipper’s face fell flat as he crossed the first thing off his list, internally cursing his sister. “Of course you do. Anyway, there are quite a few faulty light bulbs that need fixing, and we need to install smoke alarms, and fix the stairs, and somebody really need to sweep or mop or something, it’s really dusty in here… oh and, I would like a lock for my bedroom door.” For safety reasons, he added in his head.

“Woah, dude. I’ll handle the lights, and the smoke alarms, but that’s a lot to do. You’ll have to work hard if you want to do all that in only three days.”

Dipper shrugged. “Not much else to do around here. We’ll probably need to go shopping today if we want to get this done in time.. We’re also in dire need of groceries. If i make a list, will you be able to stop by the hardware store to pick up the stuff?

“Of course. I’m on my way!”

Dipper laughed, shaking his head. “Soos, you forgot the list!”

“Oh. Right.”

***

Bam. Bam. Dipper wiped the sweat out of his eyes as he continued hammering the nails into the newly installed pieces of wood of the staircase. Soos’d found some old wooden boards with the rest of the chopped wood in the grassy field between them and the woods surrounding the Shack, leading to Dipper’s idea to reinforce the rotting stairs so he wouldn’t fall halfway through the staircase again (long story).

“Dipper!” The teen heard a shout from a little farther up the stairs: Mabel’s room. His twin had popped her head out, headphones around her neck, annoyed expression in place. “I am trying to listen to music. I can hear you hammering through my headphones and they are ON HIGH!” The brunette crossed her arms, now fully out of the room. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like to fall through these very steps and get buried up to your waist in rotting wood, perhaps?” Dipper asked, pausing to look up at his sister with a raised eyebrow.

Mabel hmphed, turning around in annoyance and stomping back into her bedroom as dipper returned to his task.

“At least pretend to act like you’re trying to keep it down!”

Dipper smirked. Now that she’s gotten all up in his face about it, he’d go all out for the last seven or so steps.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Dipper wiped his forehead once more, airing out his sticky red t-shirt. The teen looked down on the stairs with pride. He still had a day left before the shopping trip, and he and Soos had already fixed the light bulbs, installed smoke alarms in every room except Stan’s (he’d threatened to put them to work all weekend with no breaks if they dared enter the forbidden room), fixed the stairs, and fixed up the porch. He’d also bought a toaster and replaced some of the cracked plates with one set of nice ones and a whole lot of plastic ones to prevent further breakage, practically restocking the whole kitchen with both food and supplies. He would have thrown out all of the cracked ones if Stan hadn’t insisted on keeping the “perfectly fine cutlery”.

The only downside was that, because of the searing Gravity Falls heat wave that week, Dipper had had to change every few hours due to his sticky, sweaty clothes. He suspected that he had gone through more clothes these last two days than he had in his whole last school year. Needless to say, his workload had been expanded to laundry as well. 

Dipper turned around from his hard work and entered his bedroom. He probably had two or three outfits left before washing them became necessary. He didn’t even have that many clothes. His whole wardrobe could fit inside one, despite rather full, load, thought Dipper as he shimmied out of one of his many plain red t-shirts. It was too hot for flannel or pants, so hot that he’d even shed his trademark blue vest. All that was left to do was install the lock on his bedroom door and freshen up the Shack’s paint job, and he had a whole day left to do it.

Dipper gathered up all of his laundry, closing the door behind him with his foot, being careful not to drop the basket full of clothes. The washer and dryer were housed in a small, dank, closet like room near the kitchen. As Dipper descended the newly mended stairs one by one, he heard vaguely recognizable voices sounding from the kitchen. The boy shrugged, continuing on his descent. 

Dipper had successfully made it down the stairs, about to pass the kitchen when the laundry basket on his hip seemed to be tugged away by an invisible force, spilling the laundry all over the hall outside the kitchen and consequently dragging down the surprised Dipper with it.

Dipper fell onto the pile of laundry with a loud ‘oof’, knocking one of his awkward, gangly elbows against the wall. “Crap,” he said, nursing his sore elbow on the ground. With a groan, the teen stood up, mumbling about stupid walls and stupidly gangly limbs. To his great shock, he came face to face with a pair of mischievous golden eyes.

“Shit- Bill?! What are you doing in my kitchen?!” exclaimed Dipper, clutching his heart, and not gripping fabric, became increasingly conscious of the fact that he was shirtless, walking around in just a pair of navy cargo shorts, showing off his shimmery blue necklace resting casually in the middle of his collarbones. Also, all of his laundry was spilled out on the floor. With a small cry, he began to speedily replace the clothes into the basket in an attempt to escape quickly and painlessly.

The universe seemed to disagree with his sentiments.

Mabel hopped up from her relaxed position in one of the kitchen chairs, walking over to the site of her twin’s humiliating display. “I invited him, idiot. Also, two things: It’s not your kitchen, and two, why are you walking around shirtless? What is this, your bedroom?”

Dipper, having managed to get all of his clothes safely rescued, stood up awkwardly, basket on his hip once more. “I’m actually on my way to the laundry, so if you’ll excuse me,” he said, avoiding eye contacting and practically sprinting the ten feet to the laundry room, shutting the door behind him.

Dipper exhaled heavily, putting his laundry down on the floor next to him, careful not to spill it again. Thinking over his encounter, he opened the lid of the washer and began to place in all the clothes absentmindedly, yet not so carelessly that he put both whites and reds in the same load. He’d learned his lesson when he’d accidentally put in a red shirt with his load of white socks and had to steal his dad’s all year, lest he be made fun of for wearing pink socks. Instead, he’d given them to Mabel, who initially made fun of him for making such a mistake with all the white socks he owned, but had actually used them (they were such a pretty shade, he overheard her telling one of her friends once).

Why had Bill been in his- sorry, the, Dipper corrected himself with a roll of his eyes- kitchen? Mabel may have invited him, but why? He’d hoped not to have seen him until the weekend. He’d even finished all of the things he said he’d do early so that he’d have half a day to prepare himself!

Dipper closed the lid of the washing machine, setting the settings to the appropriate level and booting it up. He was still shirtless, and he still had to escape up to his room so he could take a shower. What if Bill and Mabel were still out there? He didn’t need to have another embarrassing encounter with them. One shirtless endeavor was enough for him.

The anxious teen propped open the laundry door, enough so that he could peek out and have a decent angle of the hallway, but not so much that it would be obvious that it it was open to any person in the hallway who was not paying attention. At first glance, Dipper could see that there were no lingering personnel in the way of his escape up the stairs. He couldn’t hear any voices resonating from the kitchen, either. After surveying the hall for a moment more, Dipper decided that if he kept lying in surveillance someone would eventually come and then he’d have to wait even longer. As a last precaution, Dipper looked around once more and then pulled silently out of the laundry room, closing the door behind him. Then, with no last looks, he sprinted once more, this time towards the stairs. 

A quarter of the way up the stairs. No incident.

Passing Stan’s room. No incident. Still creeping silently up the stairs, avoiding the weak spots he’d noticed when mending the stairs, as to avoid confrontation. All he needed to do was pass Mabel’s room and then ascend the seven or so stairs to his room in the attic. His safehouse.

As Dipper passed his twin’s room, he could hear her laughter. And not only her laughter, but Bill’s sort of high-pitched- cackling? Not quite laughing, but what Dipper figured was a close to it as the guy got. Dipper felt an unwanted clench in the general area of his heart. Why? He barely knew the guy. The only thing he had to base his heart’s flutters on was his inane cuteness- no, hotness. And wasn’t that why he was here in this middle-of-nowhere town?

But why? What was so funny? What could they possibly be laughing at? Him? Maybe he was overthinking.. After all, he had a terrible habit of doing that. A sudden burst of laughter near the door spurred Dipper on up the stairs, as quick as he could. This sudden burst up the stairs was not nearly as careful as the rest of his trek up the stairs. He could tell by all the incessant squeaking from the last seven or so stairs to his bedroom.

As Dipper dashed into his safe room, closing the door behind him, he fell back against the wooden frame of the door with an exhale. Why did he care so much? He asked himself. Dipper created a pact with himself right then and there.

From now on, he would try his best to be apathetic towards the actions of both Bill and his twin.

Keyword: try. He was never very good at repressing his emotions, Dipper thought as he stripped down out of his shorts. He made sure there was a towel in the bathroom, as well as a fresh set of clothes, before turning the handle for the hot water and, unwilling to wait for it to heat up, hopped on in.

As Dipper got into the shower, he thought he heard several pops coming from the direction of his bedroom. He shook his head, thinking it only sounds leaking from his twin’s room underneath him. The sounds went on for several minutes, yet Dipper refused to step out of the shower. Even when he swore he heard the sound of a door opening and muffled whispers and giggles, Dipper remained firmly under the spray of the warm water. Despite the evident pruning of his fingertips and even his toes, he remained. Only long after the noises had left did Dipper turn off the water and step out, toweling his legs and arms and slipping the skinny limbs through his fresh outfit, hair still sopping wet. He attempted to brush the water out of his hair, but after many moments with minimal success, he gave up and tossed the brush into the sink. 

Opening the door, Dipper beelined for his unmade bed, flopping down on it with a heavy sigh. He rolled onto his back, pulling the pillow over his face with a groan. All he wanted to do was sleep. But it was only around five, and if he took a nap now, he’d get even less sleep that night than he usually did.

The exhausted brunette lifted the pillow from his face and was about to get up and go find the locks for his bedroom when a he caught a blue light-ish sparkle in his peripheral vision. Dipper sat up to look at his door, and what he saw made his jaw drop.

“You’re kidding me,” he scoffed, getting out of bed.

His door had been bedazzled. A large pine tree shape- two triangles and a square, exactly like his sapphire necklace- had been punched with various shades of blue plastic. The popping… suddenly Dipper regretted not having his lock installed before he had taken a shower. The boy stormed angrily to the door, yanking it open and almost tearing it off its rusting hinges. Absentmindedly he added another thing to his list of repairs. As Dipper stomped outside, he was only half shocked to find the outside of his door a mirror image of the picture on the inside.

“MABEL!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I've wanted to bedazzle Dipper's door since chapter 2  
> Listen guys I'm really sorry I haven't updated even though I said I got my computer fixed and then it broke, its actally fixed now... expect the next chapter today even because I already have five out of my self-required 7 pages written, I can do it I will
> 
> I just wanted to say that you guys are the absolute best, I will get this story back on track (maybe not immediately because finals but then summer so yay) please criticize me Also I don't really go over my chapters so there are probably a lot of mistakes..


	6. "We are going shopping for you right now and you have no right to objections."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dreaded shopping experience.. and a sneak peak at the journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy this trashiness ;A;

“Keep up, Dipper, let’s go!”

Dipper sighed. The weekend had arrived and with it had come Mabel’s weekly shopping trip. In other words, an excuse to make Dipper her pack mule and skip around oh-so-merrily to different clothing shops that had been infused with perfumes that made Dipper’s nose itch and his eyes water. How could his twin handle going into such brightly colored stores every week, probably even more often than that? They made him regret not choosing to wear sunglasses that day.

Oh yeah. And Bill was there too.

“Seriously Dipper! Hurry it up a lit- OH MY GOD. Fashion alert, we are going in there I repeat FASHION ALERT I have just spotted the CUTEST dress of the SEASON.”

Dipper groaned. Yet another store to go shopping in. The pile in his arms had kept getting larger until he could barely see over it and he was dropping something every two seconds, much to the frustration of his peppy sister. They hadn’t even gotten anything for him; he wasn’t super disappointed about that, just upset with himself for being duped here.

“Do you really need all of these clothes, Mabel? You already have a sea of outfits at the Shack. Honestly, I’m a little- no, quite- surprised your closet can even contain them all,” Dipper complained, hefting the monstrous, expensive pile higher into his arms for the sixth time that minute alone.

“You can never have too many clothes,” Mabel replied, tossing the new addition to her summer wardrobe carelessly over the top of the pile. “Right, Bill?”

“Of course,” Bill interjected, looking scandalized at the fact that someone had even implied one could have more than enough clothing.

“See,” Mabel said smugly. “And anyway, now it’s your turn!”

Dipper took a second or two to process that sentence. “Wait, what?!”

“I said we were going to pick out new clothes for you. What, did you think I was lying to get you to carry all of my stuff?”

Actually, yes. For the past three hours, he’d been pretty sour about it. “Nobody needs to go shopping for three hours.”

Mabel humphed, crossing her arms and lifting her nose in the air. “Well, I was-” Dipper snorted with a roll of his eyes, only to be somewhat silenced at her look. “As I was saying,” she continued, “I was going to do that. But then I saw that you legitimately had only a basket of clothes. You basically only have t-shirts and cargo shorts.”

Dipper could tell that the tips of his ears had turned red, along with some of his face as Bill snickered behind his hand. “S-so? Unlike you, I don’t need millions of clothes that I’ll probably never wear.”

Mabel’s eyes turned hard, challenge hinted among the brown irises in her eyes. “First of all, I do wear all of my clothes, thank you very much. And two, we are going shopping for you right now and you have no right to objections after insulting my wardrobe.”

“What-”

“Shush!” Mabel interrupted, waving her manicured pointer finger in his face. “We are going. No arguments! Now then. Onwards, Aoshima!”

What does that even mean? Wondered Dipper, as he reluctantly followed the bubbly pair. He even dropped a few bags on the way, just to spite his sister.

They arrived in front of a store that was placed conveniently between an ice cream place and a toy store. Mabel threw out her arms with a flourish, smirk firmly in place. 

“Dipper, you wait here. Me and Bill-”

“Bill and I,” Dipper interrupted pointedly. His twin shot him a glare in return.

“Stop interrupting me. Bill and I-” she paused for effect, and also to stick her tongue out at her grammar nazi of a twin. “Will be going into the store. Then we’ll pick out ten outfits for you. You have to get at least eight of the outfits; you have the right to refuse two.” Mabel held up two fingers, a peace sign, for emphasis. With a nudge from Bill and a raised eyebrow, Mabel straightened. “Oh right! Bill and I will each pick out five outfits. You’ll have to try them all on, except the two you’re refusing.”

Dipper’s jaw dropped at the unfair conditions. “That’s totally-”

“No argument!” Mabel insisted, already heading into the store and making her way to the closet rack of shirts. “Go get ice cream or something. Here’s my wallet.”

Dipper sighed. He didn’t feel like trying on clothes after three hours of walking around, carrying boxes of clothes and bags of clothes and many more clothes than that. “At least I’m getting a free ice cream out of it,” he mumbled, drawing a ten-dollar bill out of the sparkly pink wallet. He’d find the most expensive thing on the menu to get back at his twin.

After a very refreshing large vanilla milkshake, Mabel reappeared in the doorway of the clothing store. She beckoned him with a finger, drawing back into the store. Dipper gathered up all of her unnecessary clothes and followed her.

Dipper set the clothes down next to Bill, who was sitting on one of the benches near the dressing rooms. In his hands Bill held all of the clothes he and Mabel had picked out in the time Dipper’d been eating expensive ice cream. Mabel separated the clothes into two piles, presumably her choices and Bill’s choices, breaking it down even further and showing him which clothes went with what. Dipper could already tell he wouldn’t enjoy this.

Mabel handed him the first outfit, from her pile, which was significantly more colorful than the other, despite the other having quite a bit of color to it as well. “Now go try this on,” she said, pushing him toward the dressing room and closing the door behind him.

The outfit was a pair of black skinny jeans and a plain red hoodie with black strings. Dipper begrudgingly admitted that it wasn’t as bad as he’d been expecting. He quickly shoved on the clothes- or, as quickly as one could shove on skinny jeans. When he’d successfully clothed himself, he pushed the door open. Bill and Mabel nodded appraisingly, exchanging smug looks at their great fashion taste. Mabel handed him the next outfit, this time from Bill’s pile. It was made up of slightly lighter grey skinny jeans and a light blue button up with sleeves that were folded up a little past his elbows.

Dipper tried on several more outfits, including many more pairs of skinny jeans, a few pairs of shorts, some t-shirts, one sweatshirt (Which he huffed at, it was summer, when would he need to wear a sweatshirt or a hoodie?) a polo shirt, and more button-ups. His wardrobe seemed to have been picked out under the color scheme blue, red, black, the occasional white, and even a few yellow pieces, thanks to Bill. The only thing he’d rejected was a tank-top with no sleeves and a simple geometric design on the front. He had to admit, he didn’t exactly look terrible in the clothes, and he wasn’t paying for them anyway, so why not? Maybe his closet did need a bit of updating.

After returning to his original outfit, he gathered up all of his clothes, Bill gathering up all of Mabel’s as they headed to checkout. Dipper handed over Mabel’s sparkly pink money-holding monstrosity and they paid successfully, Dipper now holding Mabel’s clothes again, with the addition of the few bags he’d purchased.

Mabel searched for another hour or so before claiming that she had depleted the mall of cute clothes and they made their way towards the exit. They were about to leave when Dipper caught a small bookshop and cafe in his peripheral vision.

“Hold on,” he said, holding up a hand. “I want to go to that bookstore.”

Mabel groaned. “Come on, Dipper, you don’t need any more books-” She cut herself off at the ‘really?’ face her twin was giving her. With sigh, she relented. “Fine. You get fifteen minutes. I’m going to get a smoothie.”

Dipper entered the small shop, actually excited to enter a store this time. His grin widened when he laid eyes on the plethora of new books laid out on the shelves. If he could come here every time, shopping trips- sorry, accompaniment as the pack mule- wouldn’t be so bad.

Dipper made his way through the neat maze of shelves, running his fingers over the uncracked spines. He was picking his thirteenth book to add to his pile when a small ‘boo’ erupted behind him and Dipper almost dropped all of his books, letting out a screech.

“What the- Bill?! Jeez, stop doing that to me,” he wheezed, clutching at his chest. Bill snickered, picking up Dipper’s thirteenth pick up off the floor from where it had landed. Dipper quickly grabbed the book out of his hand before he could see the cover.

“I knew you seemed like a science fiction and mystery guy,” Bill said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans, showing off a grin that made Dipper’s heart flutter. 

“H-how did you know?” Dipper asked, hugging his books close to his body.

“Pine Tree, I’ve been standing here for at least five minutes. I was reading the book titles. You’ve also just got that… air or smartness about you,” Bill admitted, hand on his chin as if he were stroking an invisible beard, trying to figure out what about the teen it was that made him seem like that kind of person. Dipper blushed, having not realized that someone had been standing behind him for a full five minutes without him noticing. 

“Y-yeah,” Dipper chuckled awkwardly, pushing his hair back off his forehead only for it to flop back down again. He really needed to cut his bangs…

“Holy shit, dude, do that again,” Bill exclaimed, suddenly enraptured by the younger teen’s forehead. Dipper paled as he realized what Bill must have seen.

“It’s, ah, nothing,” he stammered, eyes darting for an escape route. Seeing as Dipper obviously wasn’t going to, Bill pushed back his bangs to get a closer look at his birthmark.

“Huh,” Bill said, entranced with the Ursa Major constellation-shaped birthmark on his forehead. “That answers two of my questions.”

Bill had questions about him? Dipper gulped, eyes to the ground still, anywhere but the energetic blonde in front of him. “What questions?”

“Well, your name. Also why your hair is so long,” Bill replied, pulling away from his forehead and fixating his golden gaze on the boy’s face once more. Dipper’s face blazed red as he realized how close he’d been to Bill just now.

“It’s- it’s dumb, I know. Everyone made fun of me in school for it. That’s why I keep my hair long. I’m used to it.”

“Nah,” Bill said, looking surprised at the fact that someone would make fun of something like that. “I think it’s cool. I wish I had a constellation-shaped birthmark.” Dipper’s lips lifted a little bit at the corners. “Anyway, Mabel sent me to say that she would like to leave, so…”

Dipper started. “Right. Let me just pay for these.”

Bill dropped off the twins at the shack, winking before taking off back down the road. Dipper sighed. He couldn’t stop thinking about Bill’s hands on his forehead, his kind words where so many had made fun…

Well, shit. 

***

A late Monday mid-afternoon found Dipper dozing on the roof, sleek black headphones firmly in place, tunes on medium-high, flipping through the first few pages of the journal. So far, the journal was filled with heavily-detailed entries on scientific anomalies around Gravity Falls. They were a little far-fetched, even for him, but they were fun to read. He’d already gotten halfway through his bookstore haul by the time he’d remembered the journal. But seriously, a squash with a face?

Dipper had spent the whole morning working in the shop with little incident, little pay, and little embarrassment, as Mabel had scored the day off to go gallivanting off in the city and Bill had yet to swing around that day (he still had time, though. Bill always seemed to appear at the Shack around five or five thirty, without fail, even if just for a few moments. Dipper had learned to conveniently be somewhere else from 4:45 to 6:00). Sometimes, like today, Dipper would climb up onto the roof to read, listen to music, or watch the customers- and, consequently, Bill- enter and leave. If he was honest, he was a little surprised that Bill hadn’t managed to spot him yet- and if he had, he hadn’t said anything about it, not that Dipper would have given him the chance to anyway. It seemed like Bill had both wicked senses and stealth.

Which is exactly why Dipper jumped about a foot into the air as a head of golden hair appeared over the edge of the roof, accompanied with a “yellow, there”.

Dipper almost dropped the journal, face blazing as Bill climbed elegantly over the edge of the roof. “How did you get here?”

“A ladder,” Bill said simply, settling down a little bit away from the brunette with a sigh.

“How did you know I was up here?” Dipper tried rephrasing his question. How had he not noticed a ladder being propped up against the edge of the roof? He wasn’t that careless, was he?

“You thought I didn’t notice you sitting up here when I come and go? The cooler and umbrella aren’t exactly that inconspicuous. Anybody could have looked up to see you here.” Dipper fought a losing battle with his face, attempting to keep his blush from spreading obviously. “Oh hey, there’s that journal again. Invisible ink, huh? That makes sense. Why would someone cherish an empty journal?”

Dipper chuckled awkwardly, then the sentence hit him and he hid the journal behind his back in a last attempt to keep the blonde from seeing it.

Bill cocked his head. “Can’t I see it? I already know its secret, so why not?”

“I guess..” Dipper admitted, reluctantly pulling the journal out from its terrible hiding place. It wasn’t like it was anything real, just a few stories.

“Cool!” Bill said, scooching closer to the younger boy’s to get a better look at the worn journal. “More science fiction, huh? Oh, but I’ve seen this before.”

Dipper glanced down at the page he had randomly opened to. On it was a depiction of a cliffside with a strangely cut shape into it.. Almost like a spaceship, or a flying saucer. 

“Wait, seriously?” Dipper asked skeptically, looking at the blonde with slitted eyes.

“Sure.” Bill shrugged. “I used to go hiking in the woods behind this place. Can I see this?” Dipper handed the journal over, interest piqued. Bill began to flip through the invisible pages. “Yeah, I know where some of these things are. Maybe I could show you sometime.”

“Wait, seriously?!” Dipper repeated, eyes shining. 

“If you want. I’ve got nothing much else to do this summer.”

“I might just take you up on that sometime.” Dipper smiled, flipping to a random page in the journal. “Have you seen this?”

“Dude, of course.”

“And this?”

“Hmmm… oh yeah, I remember that year I was going through my mapping phase, should come in handy…”

The two teens discussed the stuff in the journal for another hour or so, the sun travelling a few miles in the sky and Mabel returning from her trip into town. The air had gotten significantly cooler by the time they’d agreed on a time and day to meet up, scheduling quite a few trips. Bill climbed down from the roof through the ladder he’d gotten up from, waving goodbye and disappearing through the trees. Dipper also returned to his bedroom, setting the journal down on his bedside table.

The rest of the night, he ignored suspicious glances from Mabel, thinking over in his head all that had happened that day and all that would happen in the upcoming week.  
He even got more sleep than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I might not update for a week or two, because of finals. But then we have summer, so I will try my best to keep this story on track and update as much as possible! I forgot how much fun it was to write this story. I also want to thank all of you guys for getting my butt inspired to write! Sorry my writing is trash and this whole story seems like one big filler chapter :(
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL. PLEASE POINTT OUT ANY MISTAKES SO THAT I CAN GO BACK AND FIX THEM.


	7. Shall we get Going?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper is an anxious mess half the time. Against my better judgement, a new character gets introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo haha its me with another chapter after like 7 months :) it's been so long since i actually wrote some of this story that I had to reread the other chapters to remember where i was and I can't really remember the atmosphere I was writing with at that time so the characterization is probably all over the place ;A; umm but i was looking through some of the comments and there were people who enjoyed this so i felt guilty and wrote a part out of nowhere ;-0 um so yeah

“See? Isn’t it pretty?” A smile. The smile was warm, and welcoming, and radiated feelings of tranquility in spades. The smile belonged to a person, he could tell, that he liked very much.  
“Mesmerising,” he replied. The peaceful smile grew even larger. Was that possible? Oh, but it was such a beautiful and seemingly otherworldy place. The grass was long and soft, like tiny blades of silken emeralds. A ring of tall trees surrounded the tiny meadow. their branches protruding from their trunks like the arms of a familiar family member embracing one home. A stream trickled by, so crisp and clear that the bottom could be seen, the smoothest white pebbles he’d ever seen coating the bottom of the bed. Tiny golden fish swam gracefully through the current, their succulent fins floating around them like the halo of an angel. They seemed to emit a tiny, blue-ish light. “Hey, what are those?”  
The smile was still there. “Those are called wish fish.”  
He laughed, a twinkling sound, right at home with the other soft noises of the surrounding forest. “That’s a funny name.”  
“Right? They grant wishes to anyone they feel is pure of heart enough to deserve them.”  
“Like unicorns?”  
“I guess, if unicorns could actually see pure-ness.”  
“Hmm?”  
“Hey, want to test it out?”  
“What if I’m not pure-of-heart enough?” Anxiety laced his voice. Would he be rejected? Would he be kicked out of this wonderful place if the wish fish suddenly decided he was a bad person?  
“Don’t worry about it,” the smile told him, accompanied by a flash of gold. “You’ll always be good anough for me.”  
The warm feeling that returned destroyed all traces of his lingering anxiety. “If you say so, then I’ll believe you.” Together with the smile, he walked towards the edge of the bank and called out to a passing fish. It took a few tries for one to acknowledge him, but once one did, it swam right over to where they crouched, popping what he assumed was the wish fish’s face out of the water.  
How strange, he thought. The fish didn’t have any eyes or a mouth. How did it see? How did it speak?  
“Sacrifices are usually the norm for such high-powered creatures,” the smile- which seemed more and more a familiar person as time went on- whispered to him. He thought that made sense.  
“Hello, wish fish,” he greeted.  
“Oy,” a voice said. “Wake up.” He shared a glance with a person next to him. How did one speak with no mouth? ‘Oy, wake up?’ Was that really something a wish fish would say?  
“Umm..”  
Loud bangs shook the meadow. He gasped as he hung on to the person’s arm for balance. Thin, yet warm. Another voice resounded.   
“Get up, quick, I really don’t want to have to come in and-”  
Tendrils of white-like smoke- appeared out of the corner of his vision. The smile was quickly overtaken, as well as the rest of the person, and the trees, the grass, even the quiet bubbling stream, along with the wish fish, disappeared in a flash of white.  
“Hey!”  
Dipper awoke with a start. His sister had slammed into his room and was standing over his bed, talking loudly into his face. “.. don’t wake up in the next- oh, you’re awake. Get ready, we’re going for breakfast in an hour.” Mabel stomped back out through the door as the last bits of Dipper’s dream slipped through his fingers like sand through an hourglass. The distorted sunlight that filtered through the triangle-shaped window on the wall above his bed gave him an odd sense of deja vu.  
“Pure of heart…” He wondered aloud. “Who…? Ah, nevermind, guess I’ll shower…” Dipper murmured, shaking his head and slipping out of his sheets into the adjoining bathroom, grabbing an outfit and heaving a yawn on the way.

++++

At the diner, Dipper looked out the window and sighed. It had been a few days since he and Bill had arranged some woods-exploring and sight-seeing for the cool things he’d read about in the journal and the first meet-up they’d scheduled had been for later today. The nerdy, sci-fi geek inside of him shrieked in anticipation at the thought of seeing for himself the marvels he’d read about. The natural skeptic in him doubted the existence and truthfulness of these things at all. The shy part of him had just fainted multiple times at the idea of being alone in the Gravity Falls weirdness with such a pretty boy, even more so one he’d practically just met. Across the table, Mabel’s eyes squinted at suspicion at her brother’s out-of-it reverie. She may not like him all that much, but being forced to both live with him and be in the same grade- as well as her self-proclaimed excellent perception and spot-on Love-o-Meter- made her think something was up.  
She wasn’t sure she liked it.  
“Oi, Flip-Flop,” she said, slowly eating away at her syrup-drenched pancakes. She knew that they were bad for her figure, but she exercised lots, and if she watched what she ate for the rest of the day, she’d be able to enjoy such a treat. “What are you all up and dreamy about.”  
Dipper, unamused at her problem-probing, narrowed his eyes right back at her from his spot across from her and their Grunkle Stan in the booth, the former calmly and boredly drinking a cup of coffee and lowkey eyeing the waitress. “None of your business.” He sipped at his orange juice in quiet contemplation. Just then, a familiar blonde head walked by his window with a slightly shorter blonde girl on his right side. Unlike the smooth grin Dipper usually saw him wearing, the blonde’s face was distorted in a strenuous, clearly fake half-smile. He looked to be bickering for a moment with the snooty-looking blonde girl before walking into the diner, the girl looking clearly displeased. Her clothes looked nice. Was she rich?  
Dipper’s questions about Bill’s similarly blonde companion subsided into slight panic as he slumped into his seat. Bill had noticed them and began walking over. Mabel, who had realized he was here, quickly waved him over, her suspicious glance aimed at the girl before smoothing over into a smiling mask. Dipper was jealous of her people skills. He wished he could do that.  
Instead, he felt overly sweaty and anxious. When had it gotten so hot in here? Yes, clearly the heat in the diner was the reason for his slightly tomato face. Not any, uh, pretty blondes or anything. Was it just him or had Bill’s awkward half-smile turned into a slightly more sincere a-little-more-than-half smile when he saw them? Nope. No wildly running imagination. Dipper managed a smile wave as the boy in question stood to a stop at the head of their table.  
“Yellow there, Pine Tree, Star,-” a slight pause- “Stan. How are we today?” Bill greeted. He turned and shot a glare at the girl who, after a scoff, moved to stand next to them with her hand on her hip, as if expecting something.  
“Hello, Bill,” Mabel returned, shooting a bright smile at him before turning a similarly bright smile towards the girl. Dipper shivered. He could tell from a glance that her initial impression of the girl wasn’t a good one. “Say, I never knew you had such an expensive-looking friend. Care to introduce us?”  
Bill looked as if he’d rather do anything but. “Well, sure. Pacifica, these two are Dipper Pines-” Dipper turned slightly red at hearing his actual name and not the lame nickname he’d been coined with- “and Mabel Pines, his twin sister. Pine Tree, Star, this is-” he sighed as if he wanted nothing to do with her, then continued on at the girl’s- Pacifica’s- slight glare. “Pacifica Northwest. Gravity Falls’ resident rich girl living in the mansion at the top of the hill.”  
Pacifica gave a another fake smile that seemed more like a grimace than any sort of courtesy. “Hello.” As Mabel and Dipper both replied hello, Dipper couldn’t help but wonder why Bill was out with such a ‘rich girl’ in the early afternoon. Was she his girlfriend? Would he cancel their plan to go look at the cliffside and surrounding area later that day? He bit at his nails absent-mindedly as he pondered it. He was pushed out of his reverie as Bill sighed and spoke again.  
“Welp, just wanted to say hi. Gotta escort the most esteemed Lady Northwest out on her shopping trip. What a great way to spend time to spend a summer Friday afternoon.” Dipper picked up on the undercurrent of sarcasm in his voice at the words. Wow. If he was picking that up, it must really be obvious that he didn’t like her all that much. He recalled the last and only time he’d heard such a name…   
‘Not many options in this little town, you know, unless you count Pacifica- which I don’t, the snooty princess’ as he recalled Bill saying. He couldn’t help but giggle but quickly shut up when Pacifica’s scathing glare turned on him.  
“Something funny?” Pacifica said, her other hand making an appearance on her hip for an extra intimidation effect. Dipper could totally see where Bill was coming from, with the ‘snooty princess’ remark. She acted just like Mabel sometimes.  
“Nothing, sorry,” Dipper replied, looking down but not really intimidated. He’d been too used to it in the past for any sort of mean girl trick that wasn’t Mabel to faze him. Pacifica harrumphed and rolled her eyes in boredom.  
“Well, we are very busy, so maybe we should get going now,” she said, clearly tired of talking to them. She glanced at Bill, who sighed.  
“Better get going. See you later,” Bill waved, glancing subtly at Dipper. So their plans weren’t cancelled. Whew.  
“Bye,” Mabel bid. After they were out of the diner and had been gone for a few seconds, Mabel rolled her eyes with a loud sigh.   
Dipper spoke up with amusement. “She seemed pretentious.”  
“No kidding, dork.” Dipper rolled his eyes at her reply. After that he was just ready to go home and do some productive reading before he had to meet up with Bill.  
Stan, who had quietly been sipping coffee during the whole endeavor, rolled his eyes as well. He sat down his empty mug. “Northwests,” he sighed, displeased. “No good idiots, all of them. All hoighty-toighty ‘Oh, I have so much money and that makes me like five status level above you’ hoho. Scams. Dishonest, they are.” At the end of his mini rant, Grunkle Stan reached for his wallet and came up empty, small grin on his face.  
“Oops, forgot my wallet,” Stan said, raising his shoulders in mock helplessness. “Hey, uh, Dipper, why don’t you pay?”  
Dipper sighed, used to it. He knew from the small impression he’d had of Grunkle Stan, he was most certainly the type who would keep his wallet hidden on him at all times and probably an extra one with a fake ID and money with him. The diner was a good place, so he didn’t particularly want to cheat them. “Why not.”  
“Kid, thanks.” Grunkle Stan said with a chuckle, reaching over the table in order to ruffle Dipper’s extremely messy hair. His hand pulled back slightly damp and he looked at it in suspicion, subtly wiping his hand off on Mabel’s sweater when she wasn’t looking. “Woah, you sweat a lot. Maybe you should shower when you get back to the shack.”  
Dipper ignored Mabel’s chuckle as he pulled out a few bills out of his pocket and laid them on the table, avoiding a particularly and questionably sticky spot. After a moment of hesitation he pulled a napkin out of the dented metal dispenser and set the wrinkled bills on top of it.  
“Aah,” Mabel sighed. “If I’d known Mystery Kid over here was paying I would have taken the opportunity to have bought something more expensive.”  
Dipper rolled his eyes for the millionth time that morning. After a quick stretch and a blink, Dipper stood up. “Shall we get going then?”

+++

Dipper looked around, biting his lip. He was practically dripping anxiety. He and Bill had scheduled to meet a little ways away from the shack, partly so that Mabel would not see them, but before he’d left he’d been berated with an endless slew of suspicious questions from his female twin. Where was he going? What was he doing? How long would he be gone? It gave shivers how perceptive she was. If she didn’t already know, how would she react if she found out he would be going out with Bill alone in the froest for the better part of the evening?  
Dipper almost tripped over a rock in his nervousness, telling himself to chill. The redness in his face skyrocketed to a new level when he spied Bill ahead on the path ahead, laughing. At him, for tripping? Ah, he really wasn’t ready after all, maybe he should back off and tell Bill to reschedule or-  
“Hello, Pine Tree,” Bill greeted, approaching Dipper with a half-smirk half-grin, bounce in his step as he stopped next to the shorter teen. Dipper had to fight not to stutter. Did the golden-haired boy know what that his very presence was intimidating?  
He had to. He was the one who had to see his own pretty face every time he looked in a mirror after all.  
“H-hey,” Dipper replied, shrugging his backpack back on his shoulder. Inside, he’d brought the journal and a blacklight, as well as his own journal for note-taking and a couple of pens. He’d also brought the last of the granola bars at his house and a bottle or two of water.  
Bill, bright smile in place, gestured down the subtle path and into the forest. “Shall we go?”  
Dipper returned a shaky smile, something about Bill seeming familiar to him. “Let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha i really had no idea what I was doing as i was writing this and the dream or whatever probably won't come back again honestly i was just trying to think of a way to wake Dipper up and begin teh chapter and my hands ran away oops owo Umm and i just went with it and introduced Pacifica but I feel like now i have to actually find a way to include her now oopss again 
> 
> My plan for this story is like nonexistent at this point im just going with it if at all but you guys were the best readers so I hope you're not too disappointed after allt his time and umm leave a comment or so this is awkard *lenny face*


End file.
